Inertia

Divinus: The Deity Roleplay Mk. VI

This seems cool, I'll toss my tentative interest down. Got a few ideas about a god of balance.

*✧･ﾟ:* ᴍᴏᴅᴇʀɴ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄ *:･ﾟ✧*

Location: Mansion Kitchen -> South Field

@psych0pomp - Sterling, @ThisIsFine - Ceobes

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Mark gave Clara a friendly nod in response to her smile. Clara Jay was a witch of his 'generation'. He thought of her focus and experiments as odd and interesting. There was no denying her skill in Floramancy, particularly with mycelium. Her recent experiments definitely have worth as they would replenish their food stocks without having to travel to groceries. Something that may be useful in the future when hunters eventually sniff their way to the mansion.

The raven-haired Witch would soon make his way to the South Field before his eyes met Stijn VanCise. Another Witch, his skill with Chirurgy and Alchemy were renowned within the coven. But beyond that, he didn't know much else about the man. Though, Mark did have the feeling that the towering man didn't quite like him. Mark, too, gave him a friendly nod and smile before making his exit.

Mark exited the mansion, turning towards the South field. His experimental magic required alot of work. He picked up two rocks, wide enough to fit his shoes. He touched the rock, his hand hummed with magic as he 'imprinted' the object with two simple instructions. Float upwards slightly and movement. He jumped on the now floating rocks and tried to steer around. It was like using a very, very bad hoverboard but it was working well- until it didn't. The rocks went haywire flew sideways and he lost control, causing him to nearly faceplant into a nearby tree. Luckily he was able to push himself off the tree before impact.

"Oof," Mark said, pushing his sliding glasses back onto his slightly reddened face, "... Hope no one saw that."

He took out a small book from his pocket and wrote down some notes. After being satisfied, he closed the book and exhaled. Next, he began making his way to the South Field. He found Ceobes and gave him an affirmative greeting as his eyes scanned the books and dummies.

Seems that he was the first there.

*✧･ﾟ:* ᴍᴏᴅᴇʀɴ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄ *:･ﾟ✧*

What about a room full of paintings that are usually judgy and sarcastic or helpful on some days.

*✧･ﾟ:* ᴍᴏᴅᴇʀɴ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄ *:･ﾟ✧*

Location: Mansion Kitchen

@CleverUsername - Mira, @ThisIsFine - Ceobes

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Mark cringed internally at Ceobes' comment towards the girl but chose to not show it. So the man was 'the' infamous Ceobes. His parents allowed him to form his own opinion about the wayward witch. Mark finished his drink and placed his cup on the kitchen counter. "Naturally." He replied to his comment about young people keeping with keeping the magical arts alive. "I'll be sure to attend."

"I'm Mark," He said, "Mark Crowe."

*✧･ﾟ:* ᴍᴏᴅᴇʀɴ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄ *:･ﾟ✧*

Location: Crowe household -> Mansion Grounds -> Kitchen

@CleverUsername - Mira, @ThisIsFine - Ceobes

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Mark let out a breath, pale skin basking in the sun's piercing warmth. His black overcoat draped behind him as the wind blew it back with each step. He was dressed in his usual fare- a white turtleneck that clung to his form and black skinny jeans with not much else. His family informed him of a certain member's return- one he's read about in the history book for his 'unorthodox' methods of attaining power. If nothing else, he also heard he would be teaching a class. It was something that peaked the young witch's interest, to say the least.

He arrived at the foot of the mansion. His eyes scanned the building through sliding glasses. It was quite a sight everytime he saw it- something about the building oozed history and prestige. Still, he always thought that it stood out, in a kind of "Hey Witches are in here" way. He pushed his glasses up and entered, giving a curt nod and short greeting to those that met his eyes.

As if a ritual, he made his way to the kitchen and found two figures conversing. Not one to interrupt he fixed himself a glass of water and parked himself by a corner and quietly observed the two. One was clearly not a Witch, which was an odd sight. The other was a witch of quite some power. The male Witch reminded him of his parents in terms of the 'magic' he exuded, maybe even his grandparents. He might've been the 'returning' Coven member, but he couldn't be certain.

He took small sips and, if either of the two met his eyes, smiled around around his cup. "Oh~ don't mind me."

*✧･ﾟ:* ᴍᴏᴅᴇʀɴ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄ *:･ﾟ✧*

Mark Crowe

Age: 23
Gender: Male
Species: Witch

Magic specialties:
The Crowe family are strict traditionalist who lean and specialize in Theurgy and Divination. As such, Mark is well versed in these forms of magic- being trained from birth. However, his preferred focus lie in the more self-reliant magics, as he has a marked distaste for magic that requires 'permission' from higher deities. Magic that require in-depth research and studies, like Spellcasting and Potion Making, are his preference. Recently, he's been dipping in toes in creation of an odd, new form of magic- one where he can 're-program' objects and similar, but it is a work-in-progress.

Personality:
Mark is an independent sort. His familial traditions of over-reliance on Theurgy and Divination magic have drilled into him a sense of free and maverick way of thinking. The very idea of begging and kneeling to a higher deity whose whims may change disgusted him. He openly criticizes his family's modus operandi, and seeks to move his family's reliance on deific magics to more self-reliant magic.

Due to his independence he is very motivated and driven. He often disappear for days, burying himself in his research and books to improve himself and his magic. Mark is more in tune with the 'newer generation', having little to no troubles acclimating and adapting to newer technologies and advancements. He is even able to program, giving him an idea for, what he calls '21st century magic'.

Mark is usually soft-spoken and appears deathly calm. He enjoys having the odd conversation or two on debates about magic and its applications with fellow Coven members. His loyalty to his family and fellow coven members is absolute and he seeks to improve each and every witches' lives if he can help it. He also has a bit of a dry sarcastic streak.

Appearance:
Mark stands at 5'9" tall, sporting a slender and muscular frame. He believes that a healthy mind lives in a healthy and fit body- as such he frequents the gym and keeps himself in shape. His eyes are a deepset, dull amber that seems to pierce right through you. Living up to his family's namesake, his hair resembles a crow-like black which contrasts against his naturally pale skin. He usually keeps it in a lazy side-swept style.

He seems to have a preference towards white and comfortable clothing- particularly having a liking towards turtlenecks.

History:
The Crowe family are a long-standing family of witches. They were there during the original founding of the Rosenthal Coven and have been members until present day. Their focus is on Divination and Theurgy. Their most recent son, Mark, showed an unapologetic distaste for their family's focus. He knew of their bloodied history of Witch Hunters. Causing him to believe Divination and Theurgy to be a fool's tale.

While still, very reluctantly, learning of his family's forte, he also begun to learn Spellcasting and Potion Making when he turned thirteen. And recently has begun his work on 'newer' magic. All in an effort of being able to do 'something' for his family when, not if, the hunters come knocking.

The Prince's Royal Guard

Acrius felt a stiff cold breeze enter the room as the door opened to reveal Balthazar. If he was being honest, being under the strict and cold eyes of Balthazar was magnitudes worse than receiving (an albeit loud and shouting) reprimand from Siegfried. From the two 'figures', he much preferred the scoldings of the latter over the former. When Balthazar was furious, the cold air seeped into every vestibule. It was a rare occurence, although that fact alone made it more terrifying when it did occur.

"Of course." Acrius stood up and stared back at the spymaster's unfeeling gaze. The boy wasn't one to cower and hide behind excuses. He readjusted his stance and folded his arms behind his back before he continued.

"... I'll report the pertinent sections." He said, "As you are aware, it was only myself and Naysein with the Prince. Naysein was by His Highness while I 'sampled' the food nearby."

"I felt eyes observing me but I thought it to be nothing but nerves and a trick of the city," Acrius paused before continued, "... My suspicions proved true when I spied one of the 'citizens' drop clear liquid onto a buffet meant to be served to the Prince."

"I thrashed the food myself and warned a servant to tell the Prince to not eat any of the food." He grimaced at his words, "That proved to be a mistake. Instead I should have secured the Prince myself... because the Servant also seemed to be an accomplice."

"On my side I chased and then managed to fend off two of them but one slipped my grasp." He said, "I personally captured the other and applied... ahem, emergency medical 'procedures' via cauterization. I believe he is in the cells."

"Another bit of information is that they coated their weapons with the same liquid." Acrius let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding, "They seemed to think it paralyzed me when they thought it scratched me."

"That concludes my report." Acrius said, "I'll accept my punishment for failing to protect Prince Leonidas."

Just Another Hero

Tag(s): @BlackMaiden@sly13

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Luckily, Keiji's brother just huffed and left the crowd as soon as he said his piece. Still, he was excited to be under one of the pillars, even if infamous. If anything, he was grateful as he's recently hit a plateau in his skill. The last time he's seen any noticeable change was when he pushed past his body's normal limit. All he could remember was seeing red mist and then promptly losing consciousness. When he woke up, his parents warned him to never do that again.

These thoughts swam in his head as they pulled up to Snake-Eyes' agency. As expected of a pillar's agency, it looked extremely wealthy, to say the least. His own family's agency wasn't anything to scoff at, but it looked minuscule in comparison. He quietly followed Snake-Eyes to the training room.

"Oh?" An unconscious smirk tugged at Keiji's face as Snake-Eyes mentioned a spar. A spar against one of the pillars wasn't an opportunity to be squandered. Wining or losing barely mattered to him, just the very fact that he has the chance to fight Snake-Eyes was enough for him to activate his power. A slasher-like smile began to etch itself on his face. It had begun, his berserker-like state had reared its head.

Dietrich had replied and activated his power, which Keiji didn't seem to notice. His body began to heat up as his quirk churned. The ground cracked as he kicked off and appeared above Snake-Eyes, his leg cocked into a flying crescent kick aimed at her head.

DIVINE INTERVENTION

Jin's compatriots seemed to be doing well from the little glimpses he could ascertain through his periphery. There also seemed to be another female priest who joined them. While sustaining some injury, everyone seemed alive and have dispatched a number of the satanists. While the Korean priest would rather it end with their lives in-tact, reality was cruel. He needed to focus. He cleared his mind and decided to focus on the dual-wielding satanist in-front of him. The satanist seemed more incensed and dangerous after Jin's failed plea. His movements were more reckless; larger openings were more present but his strikes became more deadly as a result. It was as if he wanted to take someone down with him- A suicidal gambit of sorts.

Jin held his tonfa aloft, in a defensive reverse stance. The satanists leap at him with a diving, stabbing motion. In response, the scarred priest sidestepped but the dual-wielding satanist flipped and reversed his grip and slashed at his chest. The wound was shallow, because of his light armour and Jin preemptively diving backwards as the stroke dug into his chest. The newly-formed wound still bled, however. It became more and more unlikely that he'd be able to finish the battle without either risking his life or killing the Satanist. Both options equally horrible for the mild-mannered priest.

The Satanist didn't give him time to formulate any sort of tactic either. He consistently swung as he pushed Jin backwards, the priest had to steady his footing whilst deflecting attacks. Each strike came sequentially and never from the same angle. A diagonal swing with a horizontal swing. A strike that came from opposite sides, an upwards and downwards strike in tandem. Such strikes were employed by his enemy.

Metallic clinks resounded in the room as blows and exchanges ended neutrally or in the favour of the dual-wielder. One seemed to be going for killing strokes while the other seemed to want to avoid doing so, forming a sort of odd stalemate as both danced through the dining room.

A slash coming from two sides was blocked with his grip, a sabaton sunk into Jin's stomach right after. Another upwards stroke followed quickly before Jin could even register he was kicked. The priest was no slouch in the endurance department, the kick not seeming to faze him in the slightest, as he sidestepped the attack. He switched his left baton into a normal grip and, with as much force as he could muster, bludgeoned the Satanist's shoulder. A sickening crunch could be heard as the dual-wielder yelped in pain.

A sword flew to his face. The stroke would've found itself in his eye if not for his animalistic reflexes. He turned his head just enough for it to miss his head, instead it embedded itself into his cheek as it sailed by. He turned his head in the direction of the stroke to minimize the damage but it didn't help much. With a quick hop backwards, blood dripped onto the once pristine floors. Jin clutched his cheek as it began bleeding profusely. The pain was nearly mind-numbing; his brain in over-drive due to the pain but he pushed through it with not so much as a yowl.

Part of the reason why he was hit was because he didn't expect the Satanist to be able to also ignore his shoulders cracking into pieces and still counter-attack. It was an unexpected variable, was it the 'faith' in their mission that gave them such endurance? It was nearly as fervent as the priest's own. The side of his cut mouth pulsed in pain, as he pressed onto it to stave off the bleeding.

Both combatants stared at each other; one's hand was unusable as it hung downwards, arm all but useless with a shattered shoulder. The other had to use every ounce of sheer will-power to not succumb to the pain. Jin also had to drop one of his batons to place pressure on his cheek. It was clear with their ragged breathing and weaker postures that the fight was nearing its end. Even still, both seemed to be looking for openings to end the fight once and for all. With Jim's condition, someone would need to step in to break stalemate in place.

Just Another Hero

Tag(s): Everyone present

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Keiji led his brother to the Miyako common room, he had forgotten his wallet in there. The two Matsushimas stood out and there were more than a few students staring as the duo passed them. The juxtaposition of the lucky-go-happy Matsushima and the ever stoic and cold Matsushima was a striking contrast. "Come-on brother," Keiji looked back to his brother, "... Smile! You are trying to recruit some students to dear old dad's firm, right?" His brother grunted in response.

Upon arriving there, more than a few notable names were present. Keiji recognized the infamous Villain killer, Yusuke Enishi, a notable hero even outside of the Pillars. An Īda, Hotwheels, Keiji felt a pang of sympathy considering the situation with her brother, Enka. And finally another Todoroki, Todoroki Shakuko. This was the first time he's ever laid eyes on three Todoroki dynasties in the same place. Keiji didn't catch any of their conversations as they've just arrived. Hideaki's aura seemed to get colder, as if a wave of cold air pulsed from the man.

"Well, well," Hideaki called out to the gathering of heroes, his voice deep and raspy, "If it isn't Snake-Eyes, the illustrious fourth pillar."

"The one to 'train' our talents; Dietrich Konig and my younger brother... right?" Hideaki continued, his expression nor tone not betraying the intent of his message.

"Brother please-" Keiji tried to calm his brother but was pacified with a glare. Hideaki seemed to get like this around Snake-Eyes.

"I do hope that you atleast give them back to us in the same state we've lent them to you as." Hideaki almost spat out.

Keiji shifted uncomfortably in place. He wanted to apologize to the Snake-Eyes but he felt like it'd just make the situation worse.